


build you up and break you

by orphan_account



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M, alternatively: rick and morty have a lovers' spat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 16:19:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11993439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It starts, as it almost always does, with an argument.





	build you up and break you

**Author's Note:**

> please note that the underage warning is for morty since he's 17 years old here.

It starts, as it almost always does, with an argument.

Or more specifically, with Rick hurtling cusses and insults Morty's way, and Morty looking almost bored with the tirade. Which is understandable, really, considering his grandpa's been at it for 15 minutes straight already.

"Fucking bitch ass motherfucker, who the fuck you trying to i-impress, huh? Jesus, I swear--"

Morty rolls his eyes, tightening his arms across his chest. He's glaring holes at the basement floor, lips set in a tight line to keep him from succumbing down to Rick's level. It was proving to be a difficult task though, especially when Morty doesn't even think he's in the wrong.

A sting on his arm breaks Morty's facade, making him hiss under his breath. Rick catches on to it, and without another word, tugs at Morty's wrist until the boy has no choice but to stretch his arm for his grandpa's close inspection.

"You're lucky that Zneebzorb only managed to graze your-- this fucking twig arm of yours, Morty-- lucky he's got a lousier aim than you--"

Morty bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from lashing out at the insult. He did shoot the alien down right after, dammit!

Despite Rick claiming it to be nothing more than a scratch, he drops Morty's arm in favor of turning around, rummaging through what could be considered a first aid kit. He pulls out a pack of cotton balls and some homemade (lab-made?) ointment, glinting an eerie green against its glass container.

Without saying a word, Rick maneuvers Morty into a chair, lets the boy plop down on the seat in a huff before he takes Morty's arm again. The silence stretches between them as Rick starts dabbing the ointment around the grazed skin.

Then, "I-if you were trying to be a hero, then I should tell you right now, Morty-- it was pathetic, even lamer than those, those fuckin' Vindicators--" Rick frowns then, as if struck with a sudden thought. "Is that what this is all about? You wanna be a hero? 'Cause I can portal us to a dimension where those ass turds actually call us back for a second time, show you they're just high-budget, one-dimensional fart-for-brains--"

"No!" Morty yells hotly, pushing Rick away with a grunt. "That's not what this is about Rick!" So much for not succumbing to his bullshit, Morty laments distantly.

"Then w-what is it? What the fuck were you trying to prove? You wanna die? That's why you were gonna take that bullet?" Rick stood up to his full height now, jabbing a finger into Morty's chest. "News-fucking-flash, Morty, everyone's gonna die. If you wanna expedite the process, be my guest, but don't make it out to be blood on my fucking hands--"

"Shut up! Just shut up already, Rick!" Morty's voice raises an octave higher; luckily, no one else was home at the moment so he lets his temper flare instead of tampering it down like he usually does. He's had enough of Rick and his bullshit. "Why can't you just l-leave it alone? Y-you're acting as if this is the first time I got hurt because of our adventures..." _Because of you_ is left unsaid as Morty trails off, but he knows his grandpa doesn't miss that implication.

Rick's jaw tightens, scowling at the bottle of ointment in his fist, almost as if he's contemplating whether or not he could down the whole thing.

Somehow, this makes Morty's anger flare even more; the fact that Rick has his own means of escaping when _he_ has to deal with his own emotional turmoil during his every waking hour just takes the fucking cake.

"Y-you just don't get it, do you?" Morty waits until Rick levels his gaze once more, so each word hits right where it counts. "I'd die for you, Rick. _That's_ why I took the bullet."

It's both the right and wrong thing to say at the same time; right because the satisfaction of rendering Rick speechless makes Morty's chest swell with an odd, almost misplaced sense of pride; wrong because the way Rick's face crumples in the next second snatches all that smugness away.

Rick slumps into the chair he'd made Morty sit on earlier, lets the ointment fall to the floor, the glass container shattering and spattering green all over the concrete. 

"Jesus Christ, Morty," he says shakily, a hand going up to massage his temple. "T-that's not-- do you even _hear_ yourself? I-- I know I can be a real asshole-- I make you put things up your ass, make you wipe out an entire alien species, but I'd never, I'd never ask that of you. I couldn't-- _can't_ , Morty."

"That's not something you have to ask for." Morty says softly, almost to himself. His shoulders slump in defeat then, all the pent-up frustration dissolving into bitterness. "I don't even know w-why you suddenly care so much. There's an infinite amount of me's out there, Rickless Mortys you can replace me with the moment I'm gone. I'm expendable, Rick-- you've made that p-pretty clear a long time ago."

" _God_ , Morty, t-that's not even the fucking issue right now--"

"No, Rick, it _is_." Morty insists, crossing his arms over his chest again. He suddenly feels cold all over. "I'm... I'm no different from any other Morty, so me risking my ass to save you isn't a big deal. Shouldn't be a big deal."

Rick runs a hand through his already unkempt hair, looking at anywhere but Morty. His mouth quivers, then opens as if he's about to say something, but decides against it with a definite bite on his bottom lip. Morty takes it for what it is and tries his best to ignore the stab of hurt that blooms in his chest as he turns to walk away.

"Morty," Rick calls for him before he can even place a hand on the doorknob. "whatever-- whatever stupid shit you're thinking right now can't be further from the truth. You gotta know that, Morty." Then his voice goes quiet, sounding almost chastised. " _Please_."

That one word is enough for Morty to look back, because Rick never asks, never downright _begs_ for anything like that. He's met with his grandpa's gaze, looking almost as desperate as he sounds.

"I can't-- I can't fucking do this shit sober--" he starts patting himself down, but when he fails to locate his trusty flask, he lets his lanky arms fall to his sides. "You... You can't die, not on my account, or for anyone else's. You can't leave me, Morty. You're not..." his hands close into fists, and a shudder runs through him before he sags in his seat. "You're not replaceable, you little-- you dummy. You're different, Morty. I c-can't go picking out another you from anywhere else, you're the only one--"

Morty steps closer as Rick struggles for words, his face contorted as if he were in physical pain. And knowing his grandpa, Morty thinks it's not far from the truth-- Rick has always been bad at expressing himself, of laying out his emotions on the table. It's a vulnerability he just can't risk.

But he's doing it right now, doing it to prove a point to Morty, and despite the denial he's planted in his mind all these years now, Morty lets himself hope.

"You're the only Morty I'd ever want," Rick says, all the fight seemingly out of him as he finally admits, "Y-you're special, Morty... you're special and you're _mine_ , goddamit."

Morty feels his cheeks heat up at Rick's possessive tone, a pleasant warmth replacing the ache in his chest. "Rick..."

"Shut up, Morty, this is fucking embarrassing," Rick mutters, and true enough, a faint color spreads across his cheeks. He rubs the back of his neck in an extremely boyish gesture, and Morty can't help but smile at the sight. "Jesus, l-look at you, it hasn't even been five minutes and you're already a s-smug little shit."

"I know," Morty replies, then puffs his chest out in exaggerated confidence. "but I'm y- _yours_ , right, Rick?"

There's an implication beneath Morty's teasing, both of them all too aware of its true intent since they'd been dancing around the subject for years now. Rick suddenly looks conflicted once more, then after another unsuccessful pat-down of himself for his flask, he whispers _Fuck it_ and slowly, carefully nods his head. Then almost immediately, he slaps his palms over his face, mumbling out curses, some of them sounding completely alien.

"Rick--"

"I'll ruin you," Rick cuts the boy off before he can get another word out. From the angle where Morty's standing, he can't help but think how small his grandpa looks, hunched over in his pristine white lab coat. "I'll ruin you for anyone else, Morty."

It makes Morty defiant then, hearing those words so boldly spoken as fact. Makes him feel like he's fragile and naive and unaccountable and-- goddamit, he _is_ accountable for this. He's accountable for this entire mess, for his feelings for Rick, for the way he's stepping forward, hands reaching out for Rick until his palms press against his grandpa's warm, ashen cheeks.

The contact makes Rick look up at him, his eyes boring into Morty's with an intensity that, for anyone else, would've made their knees buckle. For Morty, it simply makes him lean in further.

"There goes that ego again," Morty says, and it's not lost on both of them how his voice has gone soft, almost affectionate as he gazes back at Rick. " _Ruin_ me for anyone else? Well, we'll just have to see you try first, old man."

Rick stares at him for another long moment, almost as if he's assessing Morty's honesty, his intentions, his entire being. Morty isn't scared though; he's lied too much to himself to hide the truth now, which is simply this: the love he has for Rick is too enormous, too all-encompassing that it spans across dimensions. He has so much to give, and he wants to give it all, fuck everything else.

Rick's hard gaze softens, the lines on his face easing away until all he's left with is a smile, hesitant and bittersweet all at once.

"You... you really up for that challenge, Morty?"

Morty's grin could power up Rick's ship, no problem, maybe even an entire space fleet. "I am, Rick." _I love you._

Rick sighs and takes one of Morty's hands from his face. He pauses for a moment, then meets Morty's eyes as he presses a kiss on the inside of his wrist, right where Morty's pulse point is.

_Me too, you little shit._

**Author's Note:**

> aaaand that's my first foray into the rickmorty ship! you may have noticed that i decided not to write this as c-137 rick and morty, but that's only because my rick didn't burp in any part of this fic. but that's the beauty of this show-- the basic premise is literally how rick and mortys span across different dimensions, so this is basically canon!
> 
> ps: no i'm not delusional i swear


End file.
